That's My Boy
by YulianaHenderson
Summary: "He had run out of ways to keep himself occupied. He had learned how to speak French, Spanish and Italian, had started a dog walking service and stopped after only a week, had gone hiking through the state, had even wondered if he would be a competent president, but nothing kept him occupied long enough." One-shot. Faint Jisbon, sequel to Still Falling for You. Rated K plus.


**A/N: Remember Still Falling for You? I LOVED writing that story, even if it hurt to write without my baby Lisbon, and there was a user,** LouiseKurylo, who said that maybe Jane would need something drastic to keep him occupied again, and that he might even be brave enough to adopt a child. So, without further ado, this is the sequel to SFFY!

Warning: Some left-over character death from the previous installment? Nobody new dies but yeah.

Title slightly inspired by Fifth Harmony's new track, 'That's My Girl'.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

* * *

 _'That's My Boy'_

He had unfortunately run out of ways to keep himself occupied. He had learned how to speak French, Spanish and Italian, had started a dog walking service and stopped after only a week (no dog would ever top Pascal, especially when it came to manners), had gone hiking through the state, had even wondered if he would be a competent president, but nothing kept him occupied long enough.

He was a little bored, he had to admit, and it always sent his thoughts to the empty space in the cabin. He had made it for him and his love, and their little ones, but it was just him and Pascal now, and they didn't need a lot of space.

He had dinner with the Rigsby family, Wayne and Grace and their rascals, and Jane loved entertaining them, glad the empty space in the cabin was temporarily filled up, all the nooks and crannies he had left opened for little children to crawl in, discover the world.

He had created a small area underneath a makeshift bed, a window in the wall so he could look outside, and he lay there with Benjamin and Maddy Rigsby, the two having grown so much in such a short time. The three of them laid on their stomach, looking out at the enormous patch of land he still owned.

"Uncle Patrick?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you ever have a new Aunt Teresa?"

That question pulled on his heartstrings but these kids couldn't be blamed. They didn't understand. He hoped that they never would.

"Maddy, you can't just ask that," Benjamin said, and Maddy looked at him with a questioning gaze.

"Why not?"

"Because Uncle Patrick misses Aunt Teresa."

Maddy didn't say anything else. Jane looked at the little girl.

"There won't be another Aunt Teresa," he whispered. "But at least I've got you two."

The girl smiled and kissed his cheek. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

"But what about babies?"

He looked at her. What was she getting at?

"What do you mean, Maddy?"

"Well, don't you want babies?"

"Uncle Patrick needs a girlfriend for that, Maddy."

"I know! But Stacey said that there are a lot of babies who don't have a mommy or daddy. Can't they live with Uncle Patrick?"

"All of them?" Benjamin questioned and Maddy clicked with her tongue.

"No-o-o-o… just one, maybe. A girl."

Jane let the two bicker, but the words stuck with him. He had enough space, about 24 acres of it, and he had the experience and love within him - not to mention that he had a wonderful dog.

Well, why wouldn't he? He had enough time and it would keep him occupied and down to earth.

He wanted to be a daddy again. This was the only way.

~...~

"Why is it that you want to adopt a child, Mr. Jane?"

Jane fidgeted with his wedding band, which he always did when he needed some guidance. He knew why he wanted to adopt, but he wanted to make the best impression possible. As a single male, the chances of him finding a suitable match were slim to nil. He wanted to give the authorities the idea that he was mentally stable. Then again, he probably was.

"I lost my daughter a long time ago. Her mother, too. Then last year, I lost my second wife, and she was four months pregnant." He took in a deep breath. "I have a lot of love in me. I want to share it with somebody."

The man nodded and made some notes.

"Would you be open to teenagers or children with a mental or physical disability?"

"Of course."

"Any preferences? Girl, boy, age, race?"

Jane shook his head. "No."

"And what do you think you could offer a child that any other parent can't?"

Jane paused.

"Love. If that isn't enough… a lot of space, I own 24 acres of land. I have a home that can easily house a child, or a teenager, and I have a wonderful dog. But most of all, I have the intense drive to make this world a better place for at least one little individual."

The man penned down Jane's words. The latter man fought the urge to try and steal a peek at the notebook.

 _The best impression, Patrick Jane. Just behave._

"Have you ever done drugs?"

"Not willingly."

 _Dammit_.

"How about past relationships?"

"I've only had two serious ones. I married both of them - not at the same time, of course."

This was not going too well.

"Anything else I need to know about? Criminal record, bad influences, debts?"

Alright. Jane supposed it would be him and Pascal until the end of days.

~...~

The social worker made him follow parenting classes just to be sure, while he figured out whether Jane was suitable enough for an adoption.

Jane had too much history, so he didn't estimate his chances to be very big. If this failed, he would probably have a lot more animals to fill up the quiet land in his possession.

Everything he learned in the classes he already knew - how to change diapers, how to discipline, how to create a safe and open environment, even how to do their hair. He already knew everything, but at least he had something to do.

~...~

It was Monday and he always visited her grave on Mondays, the standard routine giving him some security. He picked up a bouquet of flowers from the flower shop across from the cemetery, always getting the ones the shopkeeper liked most that week. She changed her opinion like the weather, so it was something different every week.

He had bothered the owner of the cemetery so much to put a bench close to Teresa's grave that the cranky old man budged, and he put one single bench on the cemetery, right in front of her resting place.

Jane sighed as he sat down.

He hadn't expected to be acting like an old man, but the truth hurt - he was old. Teresa had kept him young, even though she was hardly younger than him, but she made his heart skip a beat, making him feel like a teenager, head over heels in love for the first time. He had felt ten years younger every time he had picked her up effortlessly, and every time she had chuckled in response, he gained another five years to live.

It didn't matter anymore. He was not going to end it all, but there was no reason to live until he was 102. By that time, Pascal wouldn't even be around to support him anymore.

He startled when his phone rang, and picked it up as soon as possible, knowing who it could be.

"Patrick Jane."

"We found her."

He was unsure of the meaning of those words, but he recognized the voice immediately.

"What do you mean?"

"We found your future daughter."

And while the voice on the other side of the phone kept talking about God knows what, Jane looked at Teresa's grave and smiled a wistful smile.

 _I will make you proud, Teresa Lisbon. Even prouder than you were before._

~...~

He met her later that day, and she was so beautiful and precious he almost wanted to weep.

She had come from an environment where there was not a lot of love, and she had never gotten a lot of attention, so she was shy and wary of strangers. To top it all off, her foster mother had told him the little girl didn't know how to talk, even though she was barely six years old, because she had never been taught how to voice anything. Without the proper help, she might never learn how to speak.

He was informed the girl's name was Heather, and it would take a few weeks until the adoption could be finalized, and in the meantime, he had to win her over, let her open up to him, so that he could show that she would be okay living with him. He had been warned that it would likely take a long time until she would feel safe with him, and he was okay with that. However long it would take her, he would be there supporting her.

Yet at the second time meeting Heather, he was simply looking at her, admiring her beauty, and she seemed to feel it, because she stepped towards him very cautiously, her side turned towards him a little, able to run away should it be necessary.

He held out his hand, and watched as she first shied away, but eventually reached out to put her tiny hand on his. As soon as she had done that, she closed the distance between them and fell in his arms, and he looked down at her, that by now foreign feeling of love spreading through his soul.

"Daddy?" she asked as she looked up. He smiled and nodded, running his hand through her copper colored hair. He was fully aware that that little word was the first one she had ever uttered.

"I'll be your daddy if you want me to," he whispered, but she didn't listen anymore. She had no idea of the significance of this moment, he knew, as she stood back up and skipped back to the toys she was playing with before.

~...~

A few weeks later, the adoption was finalized and he could pick her up to go home.

He had been incredibly nervous preparing the house for her. What if she wouldn't like her room, what if she would want to go back to her foster mother, what if…

He had looked at Teresa's framed picture, and he had felt her pulling him to the front door. If she would have been here, she would have huffed at him, saying he shouldn't be that nervous and that Heather already liked him.

He straightened his jacket, having donned his best suit like he always did when he met her. He hadn't felt the need to dress up often since, well, so he hadn't, always dressed casually, it felt liberating even though it had taken some getting used to not to wear his three-piece-suits. But now, he had someone to dress up for again, wanting to impress her, yet for a different reason.

He wanted to be Heather's hero, her father, the first man she wanted to marry, the man she would compare all her future boyfriends with. Her best friend.

He met her and all the other adults involved in the adoption, and all that was left to do was sign the final papers, and then they could leave, but not after she had said goodbye to her foster mother.

It hurt to see. After all, that woman loved this girl, too, and Jane briefly thought of calling everything off and going home by himself. A mother would be way better for Heather than a single father, he didn't know half as much of being a woman than she did, but he eventually realized that he needed to brush that thought away.

He'd been with two amazing women, and he'd had a daughter before. Even if he didn't know everything there was to know, he knew a lot. And even then, there was Auntie Grace who could assist too, if needed.

They walked out of the building, Heather, Pascal and him, Patrick Jane, and the little girl held his hand, less nervous than Jane was. Nevertheless, he felt proud of this little family he had built. As he opened the car door, he signaled to Heather that she could get in.

"M'lady."

She didn't quite respond the way he expected, basically she gave no response, but he hoped she would eventually. For now, he had to focus on making her feel safe.

When they arrived at the cabin, he felt sorrow wash over him a little. He would have loved to come home with Teresa, their newborn child in her arms, show all the little areas there were to show, but he couldn't have that, not anymore.

Instead, he showed Heather around, holding her hand, feeling that she needed that physical contact to know that he was there. They walked to her room, and he showed her around, and she let go of his hand and touched all of the little dolls, cars and baby dinosaur toys that were neatly placed around the room.

She skipped back towards him and jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. He smiled and returned the hug, placing a butterfly kiss in her hair.

"Let's go eat something," he whispered into her ear, and she nodded, smiling against his neck.

~...~

She was actually quite a good cook, especially considering she was only six years old, and she loved helping him prepare their vegetables, and he loved watching her do so.

Such a precious little girl. He had fallen in love with her the first time he had seen her, and it hadn't really changed, no matter how often he would see her. He hoped he would always feel this pride in his heart.

They ate together, and Jane was impressed with how well she was doing. After all, she had been torn away from her temporary family to live with him, and suddenly she was in this relatively big house with someone she barely knew, but she had long ago dropped her shyness around him.

After dinner, he let her explore the house on her own, and he sat on the couch, telling her that he would be right there if she needed him.

She returned after about fifteen minutes of exploring with something in her hands. When she turned it towards him, he was met by Teresa's lovely face, the one picture he had gotten so used to seeing for so long. She pointed to it and then handed it to him, which he took as a sign that she wanted to know who it was.

"That's Teresa," he whispered. "She is my wife, was… my wife. She passed away a long time ago."

He looked at it some more, until Heather sat down beside him, leaning against his body. He smiled at her sweetness, and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her fully. She snuggled into his hold.

"She was very lovely, like a princess, but sometimes she was a little grumpy. But it made her more beautiful, even more. She would have loved you, if she were here. Maybe you would have loved her, too."

"Mommy?" she asked while pointing at the picture.

It felt like an arrow to his heart. He could be her daddy, but Teresa Lisbon would never really be her mommy. She deserved parental figures who were there to guide her. Teresa would never be anything other than a lingering spirit.

Then again, he had taken a great deal of guidance from her presence and the idea that she was looking over him. If this little girl wanted that, too, who was he to deny her that.

He didn't respond, however, because he simply didn't know how to. She leaned back in his arms and when he looked down at her, he saw her eyes were closed.

"Is the little princess tired?"

She got a smile on her face and shook her head. Still, she didn't protest when he lifted her as he stood and walked to her bedroom.

When he tucked her in, he couldn't help placing a small kiss on her forehead.

"Whatever it is that the universe has in store for you, little one," he whispered, "I'll be by your side. I promise."

But she was already asleep.

That night, when he lay in his own bed, Pascal still beside him, he felt an unfamiliar kind of hope and love build in his heart, and as always, Pascal felt exactly what kind of emotions he was feeling, sniffing his face.

"She's quite something, isn't she, Pascal?" Jane chuckled. "Don't get jealous because you're not the sole recipient of my attention, alright? She needs it a little more than you."

Right on cue, he heard the door open, and both his and Pascal's head lifted.

"Are you having trouble sleeping?" he asked her, and she responded by standing next to his bed, tears in her eyes.

He sat up and lifted her, hugging her close.

"Hey, little one," he whispered, brushing her cheek, "I'm here. It's okay. I got you."

She cried in his arms until she fell asleep again, and he decided that just for this night, she could sleep in his bed, have him and Pascal close.

He hoped he could be enough for her, yet the fact that she felt safer in his arms than in her bed was a good sign.

~...~

He had been warned she couldn't understand everything he would say, mainly because she'd had little to no verbal contact with her biological parents, her foster mother being the first to actually talk to her. Jane made sure she understood him about vital points.

She loved to cook with him, so he had created a little vegetable garden where they could grow their own crops, and he loved teaching her about the different vegetables they were growing, how to water and maintain them. Little by little, she learned more and more words to say, even if she still had trouble getting them out of her mouth.

She had started school a few weeks after she had moved in with him, starting in first grade, and he saw there was improvement in her social skills, even though she still wasn't talking a lot. He wouldn't force her - when she was ready to talk, she would. As long as she was learning how to read and write and count to a hundred, he was proud enough.

And he let it show. Each day when he picked her up from school and her teacher filled him in with all the latest improvements, he smiled brightly and hugged Heather close.

He was so proud of her.

~...~

He had gotten both of them into therapy, mainly because he knew Heather was still dealing with her past greatly, even if she didn't tell him. He didn't want his inability and lack of experience in this area to cause her speech impediment to turn into muteness for the rest of her life.

~...~

Jane was working on their garden, getting rid of some bugs that had been bothering their vegetables for a while now, music playing in the background.

He knew it sounded pathetic, but it were little things that reminded him of Teresa that kept him from going insane - for instance, her Spice Girls CD had pulled him through countless lonely nights. Now, however, it was just a way to have her in his thoughts again.

Heather was inside playing with Pascal, when she came out, and he froze - she was singing along. It was the first time he had heard her voice so much, up until that point he had only heard single words like 'Daddy', 'Pascal' or 'school'.

Perhaps she hadn't noticed that he was there, and was that the reason she let her voice be heard - he was proven wrong when she looked up at him and smiled, waving, continuing with singing, and then returned her attention to Pascal.

It felt weird, hearing this little girl singing along to those songs, but it only made him love her more.

His little girl. He had never expected that he would ever have this again. But here she was, here they were. He was so lucky.

~...~

Heather loved to snuggle into his side while they were watching TV or reading a book together, and he loved having her in his arms, safe and sound, her fun giggles and gasps of shock warming his heart.

She had him wrapped around her little finger, he couldn't deny that.

"Daddy?" she whispered, and he lowered his head to look at her. She was learning to talk more, but only with a select group of people. Not that he minded, or cared, for that matter. Whatever made her feel comfortable was fine by him.

"Yes, Heather?"

"Do you hate me for not talking?"

"What?" He raised an eyebrow. "Of course not, Heather. Hey, c'mere."

She wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"I know you, Heather. And you know me. I could never hate you, let alone for that. I love you. Okay?"

She let out a sigh, and he stroked down her curls.

"Have they been saying mean things at school?"

"Tim keeps saying that I'm stupid because I never say anything." But she was far from stupid, and the lack of words that came out of her mouth didn't diminish the fact that she was incredibly intelligent.

Then again, the most intelligent people are also the ones with the lowest self-esteem.

"You know you're not stupid," he whispered in reply, brushing her hair. "It's just a stupid little boy. He will regret treating you like this one day."

"You just say that because you're my daddy."

He smiled. Incredibly intelligent.

"Maybe. But I know you're really smart."

She didn't say anything in response to that. He hugged her closer. He hoped his words would mean more to her than those kids', but somehow he knew they didn't.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

He kissed the top of her head, brushing her hair.

"I love you, too, my precious Heather."

~...~

He had thought about her words a lot, and he knew she was insecure about her mostly staying silent. He wanted to give her a confidence boost, especially because if she would learn that she was amazing now, at this age, it would influence her later years greatly. He didn't want her to remain insecure while he knew she was aware of how amazing she was.

A few days after their conversation, when he was shopping for God knows what, he stopped in the movie section of the store, and looked for a movie they could watch. He saw many titles until his eyes landed on _The Little Mermaid_.

He got a smile as he picked up the box.

 _Of course. Perfect._

They settled in on the couch that evening, Jane on her left side, Pascal on her right, and Jane started the movie.

By the end, she had a bright smile on her face as she looked up at him.

"Does she remind you of someone?"

Heather nodded.

"Even Ariel found love. If she can, you can, too."

She stood up but remained on the couch, standing beside him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Standing like this, she was about a head taller than him, and he was hurting his neck trying to look at her.

 _She stood beside him, her warmth always making his heart skip a beat, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, as she put one of her hands in his curls._

 _He tilted his head upwards and their eyes met when she looked down at him._

" _Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?" she whispered. He smiled._

" _Perhaps. But I never tire of hearing it from you."_

 _She kissed his forehead, and he rested his free hand against her swollen belly._

 _Still so small, only about three months, but Teresa was already showing, or maybe it was her food baby for now. He had fed her well, and she kept complaining that she had gained too much weight._

 _He just thought she was beautiful no matter how she looked._

 _She leaned down further and kissed his lips, her hands still in his hair, heightening the sensations._

 _He loved her so much._

He loved this girl so much. She'd had a rough start in life, and he might not have made it any easier at first, but he could tell she was settling in, had been doing so for a while, and while she had opened up to him already, he was learning new sides to her every day.

Her emerald eyes sparkled, and he made a vow to keep that sparkle there for the rest of her life, for as long as he could.

~...~

At one point she got very ill, and as fever took over her little body, he was so afraid, he had to fight back the tears that were burning in his eyes.

He couldn't lose her, too. If he lost her, he knew he couldn't be as strong as before.

Her fever wouldn't go down, so he stripped down to his underwear so she would be able to feel his bare skin and carried her into the shower, turning on the tap and letting the cool water run down on their bodies.

He sat down with her in his arms, and held her while she shook and sobbed, so tired she couldn't do anything but cling to him.

 _Oh God. My precious Heather. Please be okay._

After a while, she fell asleep, her exhaustion finally winning over her fever, but he was still scared, still didn't trust the situation. He carefully changed her now wet clothes and put on a simple nightgown, tucking her into bed, making sure that she wasn't too warm.

He didn't lose her out of sight while he called Grace van Pelt, in what he could only describe as a blind panic.

It was in that moment that he realized that being a single parent was maybe more than he could handle. If Teresa had been here, she would most likely have stayed calm and assessed the situation.

He couldn't help but worry, however.

Charlotte had been ill, too, but it hadn't been half as bad as this.

"Jane, what's wrong?" she immediately stated, and he realized it was pretty late in the evening. But this couldn't wait.

"She has a fever and it won't go down and she keeps shaking and I'm so worried-"

"Jane," she interrupted, pulling him out of his rambling. He stopped talking but felt tears running down his cheeks. He didn't want to fight them, not now, was too exhausted and worried to calm down.

"How high?"

"Last time I checked, it was 98°."

"Okay. Does she keep drinking?"

"Not a lot, but she manages to keep some down."

It was silent on the other end, until he heard her sigh.

"Just stay calm, that's the most important thing. If she keeps drinking and her fever stays under 102, it's nothing to worry about yet. Keep an eye on her, though. Resting should lower the fever."

"But Grace-"

"Jane. Stop. It doesn't look bad now. You need to sleep, too. You're exhausted. I know it doesn't look like it now, but she will be okay. After all, she has you."

He heard her sigh, and he joined her.

"Do you want to come over?" she said, like it was only a ten minute walk. He couldn't do this to her, she had a family, too.

"No, thank you. I… I will be okay."

"You can always call me if it gets worse. Or better. Call me anyway."

"Will do."

"And Jane? Sleep. I swear to God. She needs you and if you don't sleep, she can't depend on you."

He nodded, rubbing his forehead.

"I'll try to sleep."

"Good."

"Thank you, Grace."

"No problem."

He hung up and looked at Heather, peacefully asleep in her bed, and he felt his panic lower even more, if Grace's words hadn't done so before.

He kissed her forehead, feeling it still felt warm to his touch. He quickly went to his bedroom, putting on his pajamas and getting a spare mattress from the guest room, putting it in Heather's room.

He lay down, looking at his daughter, and fell asleep almost immediately.

She turned out to be okay, her fever passing after a day, and he called Grace to tell her how well Heather was doing now. Grace was just happy to hear that the panic had left his voice.

~...~

On her seventh birthday, they had invited her entire group of acquaintances and friends to come, and her Aunts and Uncles, and Jane had decorated the cabin in The Little Mermaid style, complete with diamond shaped balloons and a Flounder and Sebastian cake.

She loved it, every single minute of her special day, her first birthday spent with him and Pascal, the first time somebody remembered her birthday, had spent time and money trying to show her how much they loved her.

Her Aunt Grace had bought her an Ariel dress, and Heather showed it off to everybody, parading around the room with a big smile. Uncle Cho had one niece under every arm, Maddy on the left, Heather on the right, and the three of them were laughing without abandon.

Jane twisted his wedding band. Teresa would have been so proud of this little girl. Jane knew she would likely have sat here, looking on as Heather strode across the room, her red curls bouncing on her shoulders, and Teresa would probably have gotten tears in her eyes from plain happiness and pride.

He did, too. It turned out him and Teresa were not so different after all.

~...~

Heather was still trying to figure out who she was, and she had a lot of time left to do so. Jane hoped he could be of enough help to her, and complied with most of her whims, hoping she would one day find something she truly loved doing.

He was used to her not talking much, and she was a complete contrast compared to Charlotte, who had almost talked his ears off from the moment she learned how to talk. Heather, of course, had a different story, so nobody could really blame her.

She was by no means a sad girl - quite the opposite, everything she did radiated happiness and joy. She had made great improvements over the time she had lived with him, and the bright smile and twinkling of her eyes was enough proof of that.

Eventually, it had been her good friend Lily who had started gymnastics, and of course, therefore Heather needed to do that, too. So the first gymnastics class she followed, he came with to support her, ready to catch her when she realized this wasn't what she wanted.

However, he was pleasantly proven wrong when Lily complained about how stupid this was, but a smile formed on Heather's lips.

He knew how to read her, and right now, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

He hoped she had finally found her calling. At least it was something she could express her feelings with without having to voice anything.

~...~

She had never told him so, but he could tell that she wanted to have a brother or sister. However, he wouldn't ask her about it, not wanting to force it on her, or out of her.

When her friend Lily got a baby sister, Heather's smile left, if only just for the evening.

He looked at her via the mirror while he brushed her curls, ready to put them in a braid. She was looking down at her lap, but after a few minutes, she met his eyes.

He sat down behind her, looking at her directly now.

"Is there anything that's bothering you?"

She nodded.

"Tell me. Maybe I can help."

"Daddy…" She turned around to him, both of them sitting crossed on the little sofa. "I would like… I want… can we…" She sighed. "I wish I had a brother or sister."

He nodded, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"I'm sure we can arrange something," he whispered.

She sighed contently in his hold.

~...~

The charismatic, twelve-year-old Adrian joined their family about three months later, and there was a click instantly between him and Heather, and Jane loved looking at them connecting so well, Heather showing him her room and then introducing him to his room.

Adrian settled in almost as quickly as Heather did, but Jane could notice he needed some more alone time.

His social worker had explained that Adrian had a mild form of autism and that it could make him antisocial from time to time, or in any case, what society usually saw as antisocial behavior.

Jane understood. Even as Adrian had his attacks when something didn't go 100% the way he wanted, Jane remained patient, and even Heather helped him through.

He realized all three of them had their own struggles, but together they could manage, he knew.

"Patrick?" he heard a gentle voice while he was preparing food for three. He turned around, looking Adrian in the eye.

Adrian didn't call him anything other than Patrick, and Jane was totally fine with that. If the boy wasn't comfortable calling him 'dad', he didn't even want him to do so.

"Yes?"

"Can I help you?"

"Of course," Jane said, adding a smile. Together, they finished the dish, tacos with fresh vegetables, and as Adrian made the servings, one of the tacos broke.

Jane eyed the boy, ready to hand him another one, seeing as the boy couldn't handle his food breaking, especially not cookies, but was surprised when Adrian continued working, not even bothered by the broken taco.

"Adrian," Jane whispered, and the boy looked up from his task at hand. "I'm so proud of you."

Adrian merely smiled and continued filling the tacos, more of them breaking, and all Adrian did was pick up the crumbs and eat them, replacing the broken tacos with new ones.

~...~

He had gone to all of her trainings that he could attend, trying not to miss a lot of them, acting like the proud dad every single time.

Especially now, as he was sitting on the bleachers, waiting for his precious princess to be called forward.

"Now, Heather Jane, 12 years old. She is the youngest competitor in today's game, so give her a big round of applause."

And she delivered her best routine yet, making no mistakes, and the crowd cheered, her team laughing and clapping, acting as her personal cheerleaders.

She won the Nationals that day, and he was inexplicably proud of her, but as they drove home, she acted no different than any other day. She was so down to earth, never really bragging about her accomplishments, and she was a clear contrast to what he had been before he had been with Teresa. His wife had put him down in his place, showing him he didn't always need to voice his self-pride, and he guessed that that had resulted in a new kind of modesty that he had transferred to Heather, too.

She took her trophy and put it next to Teresa's frame.

Jane no longer felt sad about her death, but he still thought it was unfair. Still, he tried to make the most of his life, because that is what Teresa would want him to do, so he would.

"I won," she said, her voice full of pride, and he loved to see her so confident and finally seeing what good she could do, and how talented she was, because he had seen that from the first time they had met. "Thank you, Teresa."

He smiled and walked away from the scene, granting her a little bit of privacy, only to find Adrian running towards him, holding what seemed to be a letter.

"Patrick!"

"What is it?" Jane asked, already curious and worried at the same time. With Adrian, you never knew. He was seventeen now, and had greatly matured, but Jane couldn't always read what mood the young man was in.

"It's a letter from Harvard."

"Well, what does it say?"

Adrian's hands shook as he opened the envelope, and both of them were nervous as they registered the words printed on the paper.

"Oh my God," Adrian whispered, before screaming out his happiness, enveloping Jane in a tight hug before running to Heather, telling her the good news.

Jane dreamed of Teresa that night, the first time in ages, and it startled him a little, but he wasn't going to complain, accepting every little of her in his life as possible.

In the dream he lay in his bed on his side, having trouble falling asleep, when he heard the door open, and saw Teresa climb into his bed, her favorite nightgown on, and she smiled as she lay down beside him, turning to him so she could look him in the eye.

He smiled at her image, his heart skipping a beat.

"Hey, Beautiful," he whispered, reaching out to touch her hair, her face, but he didn't need to commit her to memory, because she was already there. If she hadn't been, he knew, she wouldn't have been in front of him here, in this moment.

She smiled even brighter, and it made his smile brighten, too, and they ended up just giggling, love filling everything he had.

"Are you proud of me still, Teresa?"

"I'm always proud of you. You know that."

He nodded. He did. It had taken him a while to deal with the loss of her presence, and he still didn't accept it, but he knew how to live with it, and prevent the loss from overpowering him.

"And your children, too," she whispered. "She won the Nationals, huh?"

He nodded and swallowed.

"She was flawless. She had no mistakes." He smiled remembering the moment it was clear she was the winner - the smile he'd had then was unbreakable. "Adrian, too. Harvard accepted him. He will be exactly who you always fought against."

"A judge?"

He smiled. "No. A lawyer."

"God." Her exasperated reaction made him chuckle. His sweet Teresa. Without her knowing, she was the funniest person he had ever known. "He will do well. He's smart enough."

"That he is." He scooted closer and brushed her hair out of her face, brushing her cheek when his hand came down. "I love you so. I still miss you."

"And you may. I miss you, too. But don't let the sadness overpower you."

"I don't. And I won't."

She kissed his forehead, cupping his face with both of her hands.

"You don't have to let me go. At least, not the thought of me."

"Teresa, I don't want to take another breath without you," he whispered, even though he knew he could. The past few years had proven to him that he could live without her, even though it was bloody hard.

"I know," she replied, her smile dropping, "and I wished I could have been there for you. But you are strong, so strong. I wish you had talked to me a little longer that day, that I had told you one more time that I loved you, because perhaps that would have caused me to avoid that car altogether. But the past is the past. I can't come back, and we need to accept that."

He kissed her lips, wanting her to stop talking for now, not wanting to be confronted with how lonely he still was, even when he had Heather, Adrian and Pascal to focus on. He wanted Teresa to be in bed beside him, like in this dream, never to leave ever again.

She smiled as she pulled away, but her attention was caught by something else, and she shot up, looking at the doorway.

"Is that Pascal?" She jumped off the bed, both her hands resting on her swollen belly, and she raced out of the room. "Hey buddy!"

He smiled, and as he let his head fall back, he woke up.

Her presence was still there, on the bed next to him, even if it had occasionally been occupied by Pascal, and Heather and Adrian, it was still her place, after all these years.

God. If someone had told him when she had still been alive that he would survive without her, he would have laughed at them. Yet now, he had a purpose again, steering Adrian and Heather into the right direction, serving as a father or a mentor, whatever they wanted him to be. And he did it all by himself - well, with only little interference from his friends from time to time.

He could be proud of himself.

* * *

 **A/N: There you go! Let me know what you thought in a review, thank you!**


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